


Unspoken Affairs

by Ganelon8



Category: Arthurian Mythology, Le Morte d'Arthur - Thomas Malory
Genre: Agravaine is canonically chatty, Brothers, Deaths are all Canon, Deaths are not gory or hugely violent, Eavesdropping, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Mordred has lots of schemes, Scheming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 09:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18825469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ganelon8/pseuds/Ganelon8
Summary: Everyone has heard the rumour going around court that Guinevere and Lancelot are having an affair, but no one is doing anything about it. Mordred brings it to the attention of his brothers, with the intention of forcing them into action, but will this do more harm than good?Follows the start of the final section of Le More Darthur from Agravaine's POV.





	Unspoken Affairs

Agravaine had lost count of the number of times he had been told to stop talking. 

It was a near daily occurrence by now, and from how his brothers spoke of him (and how his mother had used to), he figured he had always been like this. 

Gawain was the most courteous of them, the most beloved in court, and the best fighter. When they were children, his temper had been the worst, but now he never let it show. He had red-gold hair like the rest of them, the same muscular physique, and more stories of what they had all been like as children then the rest of them put together. 

Agravaine was between Gawain and Gaheris. If Agravaine were not in the room, then it was apparent that Gaheris was one of the poorly dispositioned brothers. Gaheris was more than usually frowning. He spoke seldom, but when he did, it was often cuttingly, and far more rude than anything Agravaine unintentionally said.

Gareth had been the baby of the family for a while, but he had never grown as tall as the rest of them, so he still had something of a baby face. He spent more time with Lancelot then his brothers, and was the only one of them not behind Gawain in the petty court arguments of whether he or Lancelot was the better knight. 

Mordred was a good ten years younger than Gareth, with hair more gold than red. He was the smartest of the lot, Agravaine was sure of that. People were also saying that Mordred could be as good a knight as Gawain, if not better, and their oldest brother was delighted that Mordred was so talented in so many things. 

They all got along for the most part, since they were still brothers and would fight occasionally. He knew that Gareth thought little of him, since he hadn’t made much of a name for himself and wouldn’t heap praises on Lancelot like some toady. Gaheris was just bitter in general, so that was easier to take than Gareth’s frustration. 

One evening, he sat down with Mordred, Gaheris, and Gareth, all having a meal together for once, but for Gawain, who had sent apologies ahead for his lateness but the king and seneschal required his presence for something important. 

Even Gareth was beginning to relax a little. Agravaine made sure to not make any jokes in too poor a taste, since that would make Gareth grimace and walk away. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Gawain said, after perhaps ten or fifteen minutes. He had probably run part of the way over. Everyone told him to sit down, so he did. 

“You know, it’s nice to see all of you together,” Agravaine said, shocking himself.

Gawain beamed, and said, “It certainly is.”

“I know that I’ve been… busy with things, so haven’t seen you all very much lately, but this is nice,” Gareth said. It was easy enough for Agravaine to tell from the embarrassed colour in his cheeks that Gareth meant it.

“When was the last time we were all together…?” Mordred said musingly.

“It’s easier enough to make happen than all of you are making it seem,” Gaheris said. “In fact, it’s been all of us but for Gareth on many occasions.” 

Gareth reddened at that, but before he could say anything, Gawain said, “Gaheris, that’s enough. Gareth has done nothing wrong, and we all have friends outside of the family.”

“Speak for yourself,” Agravaine said with a meaningful glance at Gaheris, who glared back.

“I respect Gawain, of course, but I also respect Sir Lancelot very deeply. He taught me how to be a knight,” Gareth said.

“I thought Sir Kay did,” Agravaine said, this time receiving a glare from Gareth. 

“Speaking of Sir Lancelot, surely the rumours must be false,” Mordred said, taking on a wide-eyed look that Agravaine instantly knew was meant to look innocent and cover any real interest. Gawain always fell for that look, and Agravaine didn’t think the other two spent enough time with Mordred to realize what he was doing.

“What rumour?” Gareth said.

“We really shouldn’t be gossiping,” Gawain said.

“You might as well spit it out, Mordred,” Agravaine said, leaning back in his seat.

Mordred almost grinned at that, but somehow held it back. Gareth seemed to notice something about their youngest brother’s looks, but Gaheris seemed more interested in whatever news Mordred was about to share. “Let me preface this by saying,” Mordred said, “That this is something I have heard repeated many times already, else I’d not be saying it now. It is rather hard to not notice just how close the queen and the champion are, especially after the noble Sir Lancelot rescued her from that fiend Meleagant.”

“Mordred, he is the Queen’s champion, and part of her honour guard,” Gawain said, with a touch of weariness in his voice. Agravaine wondered if he had heard this before.

“What are you implying about Sir Lancelot, Mordred?! He is the most honourable of knights, and if you malign him, brother or no, I shall—” Gareth began.

“What are you implying?” Agravaine said, cutting Gareth off before he could finish that threat. “Everyone knows our aunt, Queen Guinevere, and Sir Lancelot are good friends. So what? She’s also good friends with Gawain, and Sir Kay, and a bunch of other knights.”

“Yes, but they’ve not been seen coming out of her room in the night,” Mordred said lightly.

That made the calm facade of the room shatter instantly. 

Gareth was on his feet in an instant, accusing Mordred of lying, saying that Sir Lancelot would never be part of an affair and that he was the most noble and honourable man any of them had ever known. Gaheris gripped the arms of his chair tightly, leaning forward, hissing out that he was unsurprised that a knight so vain as Lancelot would seduce the queen in an effort to bolster his own unjustly earned reputation as greatest of knights. Gawain was quiet, shaking his head. He had paled beyond the winter pallor the brothers all shared, his freckles standing out even as the lines between his brows grew deeper. Agravaine chuckled a few times, before he said, into the noise, that he had been hearing these rumours for years, and that Lancelot had never taken a favour in tournament before. Mordred remained frozen exactly where he had been sitting the entire time, the little expression close to a grin still on his face.

“I want to hear no more of this, nor shall I have anything to do with it,” Gawain said, raising his voice above his brothers, who all quieted. He stood up with his arms crossed, hands tight on his thick arms. “I want you all to promise that you shall not pursue this further. Sir Lancelot is an honourable person, Queen Guinevere more so. Promise me you shall leave these rumours alone.”

Agravaine rolled his eyes, but agreed along with Gareth and Gaheris. Rather than listen to what would surely become a lecture from their eldest brother, he stood up and strolled out of the room. If they were all going to kiss up to the king, far be it from him to stop them. He had better things to do. 

A light set of footsteps followed after him, and Agravaine didn’t have to turn around to guess which of his brothers had followed him out. “So, the others are all against it, but will you come to speak to the king with me?” Mordred said.

“Sure, why not,” Agravaine said. “Brothers are meant to stick together, right? Besides, the king should know what’s going on in his own court.”

“But you’re willing to go against what dear brother Gawain says?” Mordred said, widening his eyes.

The innocent act made Agravaine snort. “Yeah, what of it? You are too.”

That seemed to settle it, because Mordred offered something much more like his usual smile, and they strode off together to find the king. Arthur was sitting before one of the large fireplaces in his private rooms, with some of his dogs by his feet. He had a small book out, which he closed and set aside with a smile as they came into the room.

“Agravaine, Mordred, how are you?” Arthur said.

“Well enough, thank you, and how are you?” Mordred said.

Agravaine knew that, left to their own devices, Mordred and their uncle could go back and forth with their politeness and never actually say anything. He had seen them speak that way before, for hours, but at this point didn’t exactly care who had done something to annoy the other. So, after a minute or so of the exchange along similar lines, Agravaine said, “We have something important we need to talk to you about.”

“Of course,” Arthur said, his expression sobering as he took in Agavaine’s own grimace. “Speak freely, Sir Agravaine.”

Agravaine nodded, refraining from saying that he would never do anything but that. He was far from one of the courtly speakers of the court, but he was going to at least try and sound polite when telling his uncle of what was most likely an affair between his wife and her champion. “Your Majesty, there is a grave matter I need to speak to you about. Someone needs to tell you about these rumours, especially since they are probably more than just rumours, and it is unseemly for a king to be spoken of thusly in his own court. Queen Guinevere and Lancelot are having an affair, and might have been for some time, judging by—”

“Agravaine,” the king interrupted. “This is a very serious accusation.”

“Everyone’s been speaking of it,” Agravaine said, frowning. “Surely it doesn’t look good for a king to be cuckolded in his own court.”

Arthur let out a long sigh. “I cannot simply ignore it, especially not when two of my own nephews bring it before me. Very well, since you two have brought this before me, let us see if there is evidence that you can find for this crime. If you can find proof of it, then I shall entertain this rumour. Otherwise, it is just that: a rumour.”

“We shall see if we cannot find that evidence, uncle,” Mordred said, offering a shallow half bow. Agravaine followed his lead and bowed as well, but he was not made for delicate motions, so it was a deeper, somewhat clunky, bow that he offered. The brothers left the king alone in his chamber. Agravaine shut the door after them, and saw the king lower his head, putting a hand to his forehead. 

“That went pretty well,” Agravaine said. “So, what’s the plan?”

“What makes you think I have a plan?” Mordred said, raising his eyebrows in feigned surprise.

Agravaine chuckled. “None of that. I bet you planned for me to help you out with whatever it is as well. Go on, I need to hear your plan to help you out with it.”

That made his youngest brother smile a bit, this time genuinely, and he said, “Will you join me for a drink? I’d rather not speak of it here.”

A few minutes later they sat together in the antechamber to Agravaine’s own room, each with a goblet of wine and a jug between them. The fire was low here, but Agravaine had thrown a few logs onto the hearth and stirred it up, so it would start up again. 

“Right, I’m already involved in whatever plot of yours this is, since I brought this up to the king, so you might as well tell me what you want to get out of this,” Agravaine said, taking a swig of wine.

“I simply wish to make certain that justice—”

“I don’t think you care about the sanctity of marriage, or any of that,” Agravaine interrupted. “What are you really doing?”

Mordred was quiet for a long moment, his mouth drawing into a tight line. “It is justice, just not for the parties it may first appear to be for,” Mordred said. “I don’t really care about whatever the queen and Lancelot are getting up to in their own time. What I do care about is the perceptions of the king that people have.”

“So, what, this is all to help him have a good reputation?” Agravaine said.

“Something the opposite, really,” Mordred said, leaning back in his seat, still holding his goblet but not drinking. “Our most illustrious king has set up a marvellous myth around his own reign, with himself as a man fated to bring unification to this land with a rule blessed by heaven. Everyone will surely forgive me if I have doubts on that account, especially if I know that king to be more of a sinner and murderer than a miracle-worker.”

“All kings make war,” Agravaine said. He wasn’t especially loyal to their uncle, but he wasn’t disloyal either. He just wasn’t particularly bothered either way, but felt the need to argue against whatever was being said.

“Yes, and in war innocents die, but does that make it right? I say no, war will always be an evil thing, and the men who bring it about have no right to call themselves just,” Mordred said. “Someone like you or I, though, we have never thought of ourselves as good, or just, noble, courtly, or any of those other accolades knights like Lancelot are handed from birth. I am not a just man, but I shall make certain that I bring to our uncle the justice for his actions that everyone else fears to give to him. Does that answer your question, brother?”

Agravaine was quiet after that, since Mordred still had some fire in his expression from that speech. “I think it does,” Agravaine said slowly. He wasn’t sure he understood all the implications, but he could tell Mordred was angry, and that he had implicated himself as being involved. Well, if he was going to be a half decent brother, he couldn’t abandon Mordred now, so he said, “You still haven’t told me your plan.”

Mordred grinned, and told Agravaine of his plan to catch Lancelot in the queen’s room. Mordred had a group of eleven other knights willing to help, which only confirmed Agravaine’s earlier thought that all of this was planned. They would all lie in wait until they heard voices within, then they would demand entry to see who was within with the queen, on the pretext of an assassin having gotten into her rooms. There, they would find her alone with Lancelot.

“What if they’re just talking, and not actually having an affair?” Agravaine said.

“It doesn’t much matter by this point,” Mordred said. “Even if they are innocent, more than half the court thinks otherwise. And you made certain that, by confronting the king, he can no longer simply ignore these rumours as though he never heard them.”

That was how, two nights later, close to midnight, Agravaine found himself standing in a hall near the queen’s private chambers. Mordred and his other knights were there too. The others were all part of the same Table, and standing mostly still, all armed. None of them seemed to notice the nerves that were just barely hidden beneath Mordred’s usual calm facade. Agravaine saw them, but for once said nothing, not wanting to make noise lest the queen hear them, or seem as though he were trying to usurp his brother’s plan. 

They had been there for nearly an hour already, and after another half hour Agravaine’s leg was beginning to cramp, where he had been wounded years ago. He was just about ready to tell Mordred he was heading to bed no matter what any of them said, when footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway.

They all stood quieter at the sound. There had been a few false alarms already with servants going about their duties or guards on patrol. 

Agravaine held his breath and glanced around the stone corner. Apparently unaware of the presence of the knights at his back and the rumours circulating, Lancelot was walking alone down the hall. He was about the same age as Gawain, and was dressed in a simple tunic, presumably since he had come from the earlier feast. He walked right up to the queen’s door, knocked, and waited for a reply. Once it was given, he walked in, closing the door.

Agravaine felt a tight grip on his arm, and saw Mordred was wide-eyed and nearly grinning. “We’ve got them,” Mordred whispered. Agravaine made to step out, but stopped when his brother said, “We need to wait a moment.”

Agravaine’s heartbeat picked up as they all tried to keep as still as they could. Finally, when the low hum of voices from the room was too much, Agravaine shrugged off Mordred’s grip and strode forward to the door. He placed a hand on his sword, and with the other he knocked loudly.

There was immediately silence within.

“Who is it?” the familiar voice of the queen said after half a moment.

“It’s Sir Agravaine,” he said. “Is everything ok in there? We heard some voices. Just want to make sure it's not an assassin or anything.”

“Everything is fine,” Guinevere said. 

“You sure about that?” Agravaine said, trying the door. It was locked. “How about you just let us take a look to make certain?”

“We know Lancelot is in there!” someone called from over Agravaine’s shoulder, and he realized the knights had all come out to circle around his back. Mordred hung at the edge of the group.

There wasn’t a reply from within, so one of the other knights elbowed Agravaine aside to try the door himself. When that obviously didn’t work, he backed up to try and slam his weight against the door. Two of his fellows joined in, and Agravaine stood aside to let them bruise themselves if they chose.

“Isn’t this a bit much?” Agravaine said, when after a few tries the knights were simply winding themselves and the door was still up. “Plus, it’s a bit rude, and that’s coming from me.”

“I do not know what game you think yourself to be playing, Sir Agravaine,” a voice from inside, easily recognizable as Lancelot, called out. The voice of the queen, hissing something at him which was probably for him to be quiet, could barely be heard over the gasps from the knights outside the room. “But,” Lancelot continued, “I would advise that you walk away from this now. All of you here seems like a threat to the queen, and that I will not stand for.”

“It’s not a threat, we’re here to see if you and the queen are having an affair, which you’ve pretty much proved just now,” Agravaine said. “You’re here secretly in the middle of the night and are getting all angry now that we’re just asking what’s going on here. Sounds pretty suspicious, if you ask me.”

“Tempers are running high on either side of this door,” the queen said, over whatever her champion was about to say. “Why don’t we all promise that we will sit down and speak this over as though we are rational folk?”

“Little late for that,” Agravaine said. “This is pretty suspicious, so I think you’ll need to explain to the king, not to us.”

“Indeed! Open this door up, madam!” one of the knights, Sir Gromer, shouted. “We shall stand for this no longer! We shall prove in combat against Sir Lancelot that our cause, and not his, is right!”

“Let’s not be hasty now…” Agravaine began.

“All of you come here, knowing I am not well armed and all of you are prepared to fight me, many against one. Surely this is an honourable combat. Even so, if it’s a challenge you want, then I shall give it to you,” Lancelot said. “My queen has done no wrong, and I shall fight all of you to prove it!!”

“Please, Lancelot, don’t!!” Guinevere said. There was a fast exchange on the other side of the door, before it swung open.

Agravaine had thought he was ready. But, as Lancelot leapt forward, easily swatting aside two swords that lunged towards him, Agravaine realized just how unprepared he was. He tried to put up a fight, but it was for nothing in the end. Agravaine felt a blade enter his chest, and he choked on something for a moment as he fell to the stone floor, and then he could do nothing but shut his eyes.

*** 

It was cold and silent below the church. There were only two living people in the dimly lit crypt, both in dark colours. Gawain kept ahold of a small object on a chain that was clutched in his hands tightly enough to leave a mark. Mordred was staring a few feet above the three bodies laid out, mouth drawn in a tight line.

It was strange, seeing one’s brothers lie dead. The bodies had been cleaned up by now, so it was almost as though they were still sleeping. Three brothers dead in two days was a blow to both of them, and where there had once been five there were now only two standing together. Gaheris’ face still had its usual bitterness even now. Gareth looked even younger than he was, his face smooth and serene like one of the Grail Knights who had died a year earlier. Agravaine was totally still, which was strange, since normally he couldn’t stop smiling or grimacing or talking. 

“How has it come to this?” Gawain said.

Mordred shook his head slowly, staring at an unfixed space somewhere in the distance. “I didn’t want our brothers to get hurt.”

“It’s not your fault, Mordred,” Gawain said, grabbing his youngest brother’s arm, his only brother left alive. “I’ll protect you until this is over. I know whose fault it is, and I will make him pay.”

Mordred looked up at Gawain with a frown. “It wasn’t Lancelot’s fault, the king is the one who…” He trailed off, because there was something in his oldest brother’s face he had never seen before. He was paler, and his eyes had become unfocused. Something had snapped in him.

“Lancelot will pay for killing our brothers,” Gawain said, already reaching a hand to his belt to make certain his sword, as always, was there. “Don’t worry, I’ll make this right.”

**Author's Note:**

> Malory has a very different depiction of the brothers than many other sources, associating Gawain in particular with Orkney, which was a Norwegian possession when Le Morte Darthur was written, making him a literal Viking, which explains the blood feud. (See Mapping Malory, ed. Dorsey Armstrong, for more on this.) 
> 
> Malory also has a line where, to paraphrase, he says ‘none of this would have happened if Agravaine had kept his mouth shut’. Agravaine is one of the characters I’m working on for my MA dissertation, so I thought to explore his side of things a bit in this fic, where I have slightly more leeway for character development then in academic writing.


End file.
